


Forfeited heritage

by Vestre



Category: Hunter X Hunter, Possible future BNHA, ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Blood and Violence, Gen, Multiple Religion & Lore Sources, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-08-14 06:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vestre/pseuds/Vestre
Summary: Fire, water, wind, death - from ancient times whatever mystery couldn’t be solved by the power of humans mind or hands, what exceeded their capabilities, was believed to be an act of God. Was it good or bad, crossing the limits of humans possibilities was always an act of ascension, and if anyone ever achieved something, what was considered unattainable, usually became an object of worship. Through ages religions appeared, each with its own truth, rules and rites, establishing boundaries between divine and infernal. The primary assumption of moral categories of deeds became a domain od people. And if the course of history has changed a little, we would live in a real hell on earth.





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue isn’t necessary, but adds a little light to events in the main story. At “ Thousands of humans years later. 107 years later in Heaven’s time“ the part actually important in the actual story begins. This chapter is kinda light and plain, but I just needed introduce you into the right plot. More notes at the end. Have fun!

**Prologue**

_Long time ago_

“Incredible” - the thought appeared in Uriel's mind every time he stares at the highest belfry of Primum Mobile. It wasn’t anything exceptional. Not even outstanding. During the whole time, he spent here there were much more bewildering places he visited. But this particular one always seemed to grow whenever he came closer, emitting more refined aura with every step, however, the very moment he reaches the walls everything goes silent. Not that the sanctuary would be alive or moving on its own, but being there alone filled him with dread he could not understand. Walking along the old road, leading from the main hall of the Seraph’s Shrine to the very center of Elohim’s Square he spotted a lonely figure: tall, slim, pensive, leaning against the railing of the Bridge of Devotion. Even from a relatively short distance, its silhouette was indistinct and bright, shapeless and present, but the familiar aura, surrounding its very presence was unmistakable. Again, it’s not like he was unaccustomed to it. It wasn’t that long ago since they descended to earth, entered Eden and gained their material form. But up to this point, it wasn’t unusual to find a civilian of Heaven, who did not visit the land of humans yet. Uriel approached, walking steadily. He leans over the balustrade, looks at the shimmering arcades of the Empireum, sighs and asks gloomy:

“What will you do, Michael? Since “The Fall” everything is going wrong. Semyazza was caught and punished by the Third Choir. Azael was dismissed. Satanael left and with him all of those, who don’t want to be servants anymore. We are divided. But it is not only about them. Others are grumbling, too. Zeus, Odin and Amaterasu are gaining supporters and intend to take leadership. They won’t submit anymore. Neither you or Him.”

”Then Heaven will collapse” Michael said emotionlessly, the tone of his voice the vaguest hint of expectancy.

“Are you serious?!” Uriel exclaimed incredulously, a tone of unhidden anger in his voice “You’re the First Commander of Seraph’s Regiment! Prince of the First Choir of Heaven! Why would you say that, since so many of us are still at your side?”

There was a short, unpleasant silence before he heard the answer. Uriel couldn’t see his face, but the smooth movement of the nearby figure was sufficient to ensure him, that Michael was now staring at him. He could feel his glance, blazing, primeval eyes piercing his very soul, leaving him bared, helpless, unable to run or answer. Even in his long life he hardly encounters any spirits able to make him feel uncertain or conservative, but the raw glance alone was enough to shatter all his self-confidence.

After a while he felt the pressure lessens, mood getting lighter, less judgemental and Uriel could feel a note of sympathy and sorrow:

”So… you really do not know anything?” - he asked amicably, a vague smile forming on his dim face.

”W-what?” he said stuttering “What do you mean? What do I not know about?” answered, don’t bothering to hide the surprise.

”What do you think…” Michael’s voice was thoughtful, distant and at the same time there wasn’t that the cold ringing from before a moment, but more affectionate, endearing even “...what is the reason of the whole mess?”

_“Oh.. that’s unexpected.”_ was the first thought he realized.

”Isn’t it obvious? Angels don’t even want to be associated with mortals, let alone being their guides, “servants” as the others say. What’s more, after visiting Eden, some of them get accustomed to their new form. To be able to drink, eat, sleep, just have a body at all. You know that before that day we all were just spirits: aware, intelligent, connected with each other and immortal. But we were just staying here, without reason, without desires… I can not quite put it in words, I was not unhappy then. I felt fulfilled, whole, safe, loved... But there was still something missing, as if my entire being was deprived of meaning - unreal and not really needed.” That was the closest truth he could actually admit. It wasn’t like he could just express the suffocating emptiness which accompanied him for eons. At this moment he felt as if coldness takes over his body, his breath hasten, shoulders stiffen, uneasiness crumbling to his heart.

”Is that so..? Why then didn’t you join our kinsmen? Is that what they want? Fulfilling your lusts and desires, forgetting yourself in the transient world, short-lived ecstasy, living with plain purposes and without limitations?” Once more, there were no emotions in his questions. Neutral, calculated, deprived of even the smallest hint of praise disapproval, but his words were harsh, direct. It wasn’t hard to guess what the Seraph thinks of it.

”No! Of course not! You know me for so long and know that I would never join them because of that.” At that, his voice was raised. He wasn’t going to offend the other, especially, that he was the one who suggested to have this talk. He was in urgent need of information, revolt spreads and he has no clue what to do. Let it alone! He wasn’t even sure why the others didn’t want to compromise! This wasn’t a big deal: get a second, material nature in exchange for helping some mortals. What was the deal there?! “Regardless of what we need and want, we have still only one final purpose and fulfilling it stands above any other. It’s ridiculous. Some time ago we didn’t even dream about any other words and dimensions. Our reality was complete, spaceless and timeless. There wasn’t anything to crave or be afraid of, nothing that we could desire over the incredible bond connecting us with Him…”

At that Michael smiled. It was more felt than visible, but the uneasiness get thinner and his figure seemed more welcoming and friendly. “ _That’s strange”_ Uriel thought. There was something in his interlocutor that always made him careful in behavior and attentive in the talk. He could not say, that the other was cold, obnoxious or disrespectful. On the contrary! Regardless of his status, Michael was always amicable and eager to help. Nonetheless, for him approaching him was linked with that unreasonable fear and even more with the utmost respect, he felt for the Commander. If you think about it, it was a bit strange. He has no presumptions about his companion being dangerous, a little intimidating maybe, but he wasn’t the only one here with that attitude! But he was the only one who made such an impression on him - delicate, but the palpable aura of dignity and power radiating from him.

Then, after a short silence, which seemed for Uriel like half of eternity, Michael has spoken:  
“I’m glad to hear you say it, but I think, that you too don’t understand the causes of the recent event, not the ones of “the Creation”. It’s nearly time for us to fall as well, but the way of our fall will be our own resolve. Would you like to come with me for a while? Admittedly, there is far from crowded, but what I wanna say shall not be overheard.”

Again that day, as it was before, he wasn’t expecting him to say this. To be frank, he didn’t think, that asking Michael was a good idea at all. But, since other agreed… Uriel nodded slightly and a sudden shine started beaming from the familiar figure standing next to him. Then the light got so bright that couldn’t see anymore. The glow embraced them both as they started to slowly disappear from the spot they were just a seconds ago and before anyone noticed, they were gone.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the light faded, they were in a small, round chamber. There was a small, wooden table in the middle, two old chairs on its opposite sides and a simple, lacy tablecloth on the tabletop and two candles on it. Behind the table was a chimney, and above, on a white wall was a painting. There was a man in a blue robe. He has brown hair, shimmering eyes and a long beard. His right arm was risen, thumb and index touching each other, the other three straight. At first glance there were no more embellishments, the room seemed rather empty. Uriel turned around and saw a big brass door, above 9 feets height. When he came closer he could see intricately carved scenes - the door was divided into fourteen sections, each representing a fragment of the same story, he guessed. It wasn’t that hard, because every illustration was always the same man. What’s more - that was the very same person as in the picture behind him. At that, he turned his gaze to the walls. What he first believed was plain, he could now see panning out patterns, covering this whole place. There were leaves and thorns, flowers, trees, and seven stars at all. Every ornament connected to others, subtle lines enveloping entire available space, forming various shapes: Corinthian columns, stellar constellations and human-like figures, every in their only and unique style. At some point, Uriel lifted his head, looked at the ceiling and gasped in awe. There was a large fresco showing “The Last Judgement” adorning the whole vault of the chamber. At the center stood a muscular young man. His was wearing only a red cap and a white sash. From his head a bright halo was radiating and he was giving the impression of absolute authority. Above him and on his right was people going upstairs, carelessly and by any means not frightened. But everything, what was on his left, was crumbling, and disintegrating. There were demons and angels, and as it seems, good and evil. Every form emanating a strange sort of light: some of them on the right side was shimmering, giving a sensation of happiness, others, in the middle-left were sparkling, as if in a failed attempt of objection and there was even a few on the very bottom, who seemed to fade, exhausted by bearing an excruciating pain.

After a short moment of admiration and reverie, Uriel turned to face Michael and stopped bewildered. Next to him stood a tall, smooth male with six wings: a pair on his back between his shoulders and the other two below them. The first pair has roughly 8 feets and the smaller ones 5 feets each. He has blue, deepness eyes, sharp nose and bright, almost transparent skin. He was wearing an alba, which covered his whole body. Seeing Uriel’s astonishment he smiled genuinely before saying “I thought, that it will be more comfortable. I have to admit, some humans customs are worth imitating. I took you here to explain the matters, which are currently happening in Heaven, to tell you about some, which have already happened and also these, whose time is yet to come. You came to me panicked, asking what to do. I won’t give you an answer, but I will tell you what are the reasons for the whole mess. Would you like to hear me out?”

“Naturally! Why are you asking that? I wouldn't have come asking if I were thinking otherwise!” said Uriel, little perplexed about that sign of caution coming from the other’s mouths. Wasn’t he always the haughty and straightforward one? He has never asked him twice before. An abrupt surge of uncertainty hit him. Was Michael anxious? He seemed a little detached, as if worried and pained. Looking at it from that perspective his shoulders were unnaturally tense, arms crossed on his chest, his gaze at him, evaluating his every word. Was he always this intimidating? Sure, it wasn’t an everyday thing for the Seraph to take on the human form, but he has seen it before and that previous encounter was much more friendly than it is now. _“Hopefully, that’s because of the topic we’re talking of…”_

“Well, then start from the beginning. And while I will be talking, shall we eat the super?” At that, the small table in the centre of the chamber filled with various dishes - most of them he has never seen before, there were some seafoods, strange kind of meat, a loaf of bread, an unfamiliar set of appetizers placed next to the plates, which were strategically located at the opposite sides of the table. And, what surprised him the most, at the centre stood two bottles of wine, white and red one. _“No way, he is…”_ At some point, Urien noticed, that before the plates were stools and when he was mindlessly staring at the tableware Michael has already placed himself at the stool farther to him. He shook his head and sat on the other side.

“Let’s eat and drink, today we should feast, this is probably the last time we could talk like that. Please, help yourself and I’ll start the story, but this is long and arduous one, so I’ll be glad if you could keep all the questions fo the end.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Thousands of humans years later. 107 years later in Heaven’s time._

“And like that he began to speak and spoke for a long time, that when he ended Uriel didn’t even know how long the story was, hours or days? Weeks or years? Nobody knows because the events, which happened after their meeting has overshadowed the seriousness of everything that happened before… So now, we only know what was told at the Last Council and even that is memories are blurred in the memory of those few, who present in Primum Mobile at that very sad day.” When the olden man ended, he nestled in the back of his leather armchair, sighing heavily. He didn’t like telling his grandchildren tales like this, well, maybe not exactly tales, because this one has a little more of a truth than an ordinary tale, but they just loved when during a cold, winter evening he sat with them near the fireplace and tells them all the stories about world long gone, but still not forgotten. His granddaughter was usually more eager of the two to hear them, she often frightened in the middle, so he needed to comfort her if he wanted her to stay to the end. Predominantly a small cuddle was enough to put her at ease and then she climbed from her usual spot at his side and sat on his knees, hugging him closely. He strokes her head when her long, black intertwined with his gray one, so nearly every evening he needed to carefully unravel them, while the young lady was long asleep in his tender embrace. He enjoyed it a lot. After his daughter died at the age of 13 and his son’s left him with her and her brother these children became his whole life. Therefore, this time as well, like every other night, he grabbed her tightly, stood up and went to take her to bet, in a small room she shared with her brother, making sure, that she’s covered with her favorite, yellow blanked and that the window is closed, so she won’t get cold. After that, he went to the kitchen, hearing her light snoring all the time and opened the small kitchen cabinet, took out some herbs and two cups, then put part of the herbs to each cup and pored still warm water from a kettle, which was laying on a stove. Then he took both cups, one for each hand and came back to the salon. However, he did not sit back on his former place, but at a small pillow, where his granddaughter sat before. Then he stretched his right arm and gave a plain, black cup to a young boy sitting at the other side of the fireplace. It wasn’t unusual for him to be quiet during their story times. On the contrary, since his father left him and his sister to hide from whoever was chasing him, he was no longer as outgoing and talkative. Generally, it was rather hard to involve him in more earnest conservation. Who knows what this kid has been through? He preferred to listen than talking and it was common practice for him to just leave when his grandfather was putting his sister to sleep. Rare times, when he actually got interested, Zoel found him sitting cross-legged at the spot nearest the fireside, looking at the blazing fire. Today wasn’t different. The youngster gave him a small nod before grabbing the hot drink. _“He really got after his parents.”_ the older man thought. “The short, messy hair and small nose, he took from his mother. And these eyes, the unfathomable deep, sincere eyes, so like his father. Eh, that idiot. He arrived here a few years ago with two children by his side and acted like this wasn’t a big matter. Then just left them with me and walk away, granting me that annoying, cocky smile... I should have just disinherited him.” But he was snapped out of his thoughts when his grandchild, after a slow, careful sip of black tea, then, holding the cup on his lap asked in a hushed tone:  
“It wasn’t a normal story, right, gramps?” His voice was kind off, uncertain and insistent.  
“Hmm? What do you mean?” Joel asked, raising a brow.

“This is not that kind of story you used to tell us. I mean… The other night your stories were about fairies, witches, werewolves, elves, dwarves, cursed knights and all kind of magic, but this time something seems off… It’s just like you never mentioned the whole story of magic, angels and demons, and gods, but this time something seems off. I just don’t know how to put it in words.” he answered and looked at the floor, his voice trembling and a little hopeless.

“Oh, did you actually caught it?” said the old man, amused?

“What?” his head snapping up, eyes wide.

“All this seems odd, because this story, unlike the others, has actually half-happened.”

“WHAT?!” the youngster yelled at that, standing from his former spot “How? When? Didn’t you say before, that those stories are just some folk legends? How the hell could one of them just happened?!” Since he stayed in this room after his sister fell asleep, he expected some answers, as it usually was when he and his grandfather were alone. After a while, when the elder was looking at the ceiling, apparently deep in his thoughts, he abruptly shook his head and finally said:

“You are fourteen, am I right?”

“Yeah” came an answer “but does it matter?”

“Did you father tell you about The Day of Arrival?”

“No… Yes. He was teaching me since I was six, but I thought, that it is another sloppy history of some angelic shit” he said but at the meaningful glare he received from his guardian murmured a hasty “Sorry…” Zoel just frowned, rubbed his forehead, sighed and said:

“Ok then. I’ll tell you the full story. I always thought, that it shouldn’t be narrated to kids. But times are restless and it is something, that you need to know. Now, sit up and let me tell you what I heard” he stated resigned and after the boy sat up and took his long-forgotten cup, he began:  
“Despite the fact, that there are many, who claim to know what happened before those, who call themselves ‘The Higher’ appeared, to this day we have no evidence to confirm any of their theory. What they have in common is that they all came from the same place after a great disaster. Firstly they were desperate and confused, searching for any way to come back to their homeland, but as you can expect, their efforts were fruitless. We think, that they were banished and forced to abandon their previous land.”

“Banished?” asked the other male with an unhidden surprise “Who could be able to banish them? Don’t they have that strange power to control energy?”

“I don’t know who did it, but it’s clear, that their exile was a penalty for an unknown crime. Anyway, this is not the main point. What is actually important, give descriptions made right after their arrival by Teutonic Order, they power was terrifying and before governments could react they made authorities their subordinates and then split up, each of the local leader forming a smaller, local kingdom, independent of others. It seems like they have something in common with us: we too can’t unite until something is treating our very existence. From the highest link in the food than, the greatest achievement of evolution, we became servant and farm hands, under continuous control and with more obligations than laws. But that, too, isn’t that important. We can’t ponder about the past forever. Going straight to further point… What is the most striking is that before ‘the Arrival’ there were no mentions about similar abilities developed by humans! Not a single one! Do you know what that mean?

“That their appearance somehow caused awakening similar abilities in humans?” 

“Exactly! What’s more, with time we discovered, that variety of our new abilities increases! That was only proven in recent years, but now we know for sure, that we can control our life force to enchant out bodies! If that trend continues who knows if we will be able to reach “the Highers” level? And after all, there is still one thing left in which we hope the most. In the past years, we noticed a couple of events connected to successive disappearances of an increasing number of Highers. We suspect, that it is related to their internal power struggles. If that’s it, then we could use it for our favor. I ever heard of people signing contracts with them. It also looks like their power has some limits and taking over any living physical form gives them undeniable benefits. And of course, since after overtaking a specific body they are bind to its capabilities they are evidently choosing humans since our intellectual capabilities are second only to theirs and for I don’t know what reason some of them seem like they were not able to maintain their mental self without any physical base anymore. “At that, he stopped and turning to the window, through which he had a pretty nice look at the north. When he settled down in this small mountain village in an unknown country at the southern hemisphere he intentionally made a wooden window in this direction. Shining moonlight falling on an old floor was brightening his small house nearly for a whole month, except short phase of the new moon when his entire estate was embraced with darkness. Suddenly he tensed. Why there was so dark? Today should be a full moon! He strained his ears and stood dumbfounded. There were no usual noises of bats and woodcocks, not a single skylights seen. The light snoring of his granddaughter ceased. He stood motionless by the window not knowing what to do when a concerned voice woke him from his thoughts:

“Gramps, something happened?” the boy asked, looking a little anxious.

“Wait here a second, I need to check if your sister is all right” he said and walk away to the other room, then opened the small door and entered to where the little girl should have been sleeping. He saw a small form under the yellow blanket and sighed in relief. Then came close to caresses her hair. He touched it and withdrew his hand in dismay. It was red. At the moment he saw it, a breaking voice, coming from the other room, reached his ears:

“Gramps?” And before he has time to react “GRAMPS!” resounded again, desperate and imploring.

The old man turned back and rushed back to his salon.

“Yukine!” he cried in horror, but when he entered the room the fire in fireside went out. The only thing he could see were a few droplets of blood that marked the way out. “Yukine!” he screamed, but muffled sounds of a scuffle were everything he could hear, yet he still wasn’t able to locate it. The moment he intended to run out of the door to search for his grandson a blurry dark shape moved in the from the corner of his eyes. As he turned to face it an undefined mass collided with his body. He fell and banged his head against the frame. Afterwards, the house went silent.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_A few hours later, at dawn. Hilltop near the village._

When the morning sun was lazily rising on the east horizon, flooding the world with scarlet, two forms, both dressed in long green robes, as if to mask their presence in the midst of meadows, were already running up the hill, arguing loudly.

“I’ve told you to hurry up, but no, you had to stop and get those fucking donuts!” said the lower one, clearly nervous.

“Oh just shut up! It isn’t my fault that they have the best in this district!” answered the other. After a short passage, they reached the top. From this spot the dense, dark smog enclosing the place, where should be the village they were going to. Now, all they could see was the conflagration, the remainder of what was the houses and farms last night.

“Shit, better pray to whatever god you know for us to not find them there” grumbled the lower. They started to come down the hill when the taller man grabbed his companion and hide with him behind a massive.

“What are you doing, Sahen?!”

“Be quiet, Tessar. Look!” There was a smaller, older man, his hands on his back, which were examining something they couldn’t see from this perspective and a bulky man in his forties, both clothed purple. They were discussing lively, as at some point the older one shook his head in disappointment. Then he made a sudden gesture with his hands and a huge, aureate dragon-like form appeared, taking both of them into the sky until they disappeared.

“Zoldicks” murmured Tessar “If they left empty-handed, we are screwed.” The other just gulped and said “Follow me”

They went down the rest of the hill and entered what was once a prosperous village. The smoke was suffocating, their eyes red from the dust in the air and the smell of burned corpses. There were slowly advancing, going straight to the place, where Zeno and Silva Zoldyck were standing mere minutes ago. When they arrived, at first glance none of them noticed anything particular. But when Sahen looked between remains of an old church and a small house he saw it.

“Fuck” he said disbelieving. Tessar, noticing his reaction, turned to the very point and cursed “Holy shit.” and after a short silence his companion added, “We are fucking dead”. They took a quick photo and fled, leaving the pile of corpses, and amongst them a single, impaled head, amber-gold eyes frozen in agony.


	2. Determination

It is truly amazing, where all the human's obstinacy comes from. Not once goals were archived, despite being deemed unbelievable. Passion-deprived aspiration lacks willpower and interest, fades away in a throng of desires, prone to discouragement and idleness. At that time, we have a very specific motive: to get it through, be done with the arduous task and, whatever it takes, go back to our daily routine.

The sky over Heavens Arena was exceptionally clear for the second half of August. Single feathery clouds could be seen in the south. Usually one would see some cirrus clouds or even thunderstorm ones. Storm discharges happened pretty often in this area, mainly due to the neighborhood of the South Emassian Sea in the north and Sammoth's Mountains in the east. Place rather unfortunate for a 991 meters high tower, but it seems that founders weren't experts in OHC regulations. Nevertheless, construction designed to be the world's biggest battle arena attracted the attention of many skilled individuals, located on 251 extremely spacious floors. Most of them pursued money and fame, others sought powerful opponents and adrenaline jumps, some were just bored and used to treat boredom with knives, needles cards (as if they just couldn't play poker or something). There was also certain fond of sweets boy, who really wanted to get outta this stupid tower.

"Hello, everyone!" Cocco cheered, bouncing in her chair in the commentary studio. "The long-awaited fight between the two most promising rookies is starting just a moment! Who will win? A young genius, who entered Heaven Arena at an unbelievable young age and after two years is taking his eleventh try to reach floor 200, our silver-haired, little Killua?! Or the bad boy, former adventurer, skilled in mixed martial arts and is on a hot streak Bolckham?! Make your bets! The fight is starting in 5 minutes!" Loud applause spread through the whole hall. Both participants, over the last years, gained the liking of the public. Be it impressive combat abilities, aggressive fight style or perfect technique - some performances were just oddly satisfying. Fierce duels between two uneven parties were always full of those, who enjoy low entertainment.

"Master Killua? Anything wrong?" Gotoh asked, looking at Killua, who was trying to tie his laces. The butler took a look at his watch, which he was gladly wearing on left wrist. It was useful, right. But he wouldn't mind admitting, that it makes a great addition to his recognizable black suit and pointed-frames glasses. Maybe he could do something with his combed-back hair, but that would be probably against etiquette, therefore such small additions have to suffice for the time being.

"I'm fine, Gotoh. I feel a little nervous, that's all" The boy answered in a tense manner. It wasn't like he was afraid of his opponent. He was strong, indeed. Of course, not in the league of Zoldyck's butlers, leaving alone Illumi, his father and grandfather being practically in a completely different realm of power and abilities. But he was strong, too. Two years ago, when his father ordered Gotoh and Sayoko, Tsubone's younger sister, to take him to the rumored Heavens Arena and stay there until he climbs all the way to the 200th floor. Seems pretty simple. Well, as simple as it could be for 4 years old future-to-be-heir assassin, who has the ultimate luck to have parents have overgrown ambition. Whatsmore, there was a catch. There is always a catch when it comes to Zoldyck. As a future heir, Killua needs to do it within the 2-year mark of entering the tower. Each day of delay equals additional penalty - and knowing his parents' tempers, Killua would rather avoid it by all means. It took him a month to reach floor 50, another three to get into apartments on floor 100 and after and after the whole one and half year he was stuck at floor 190. Today, after ten failed attempts and six days before the orders deadline, he can finally free himself from this endless get-beaten-and-try-again circle and come back to the get-beaten-and-electrocute one. He took a deep breath, then second and another one, trying to still his shaking hands. At this point, he completely lost his former excitement about taking down enemies and getting stronger. Drove by just one desire - to finally get out of here.

"Master Killua, I need to remind you, that your Father will later watch the review of your fight. Your failure may be very disappointing" Gotoh added in admonishing monotone. It is a given, that Kikyou would never agree to let Killua out of the mansion without taking necessary precautions. She made a special monocle, which works as an image transmitter and ordered Sayoko to wear it, regardless of circumstances. This way she could keep a sense of control over her son, even if she can not give him personal instructions any longer.

"I understand, Gotoh." The answer seemed confident, but Killua couldn't stop the cold shudder through his spine. He tried his best, to at least hold his hands still. He was nervous. As nervous as he never was in his life before. Sure, it wasn't the scariest situation he ever went through or even the most dangerous one. It was also uncertainty, annoyance, and impatience piled up in recent years and ready to explode. He needed to blow off some steam, giving vent to his emotion after all that lost battles and before coming back to his overprotective and excessively demanding family.

"This is the final test to assess your progress. Your family has great expectations of you" Spoke another person, entering the small waiting room, where they both were sitting. It was a tall woman, dressed in a formal, black suit. She had jet black hair, laced in a braided bun. Weariness and concern were clear on her face, adding her years, despite being just in her late forties. "I'm sure you will do great, Little Master."

"Oh, thanks Sayoko. I will do my best" Killua replied, encouraged. Regardless of what situation they were in, Sayoko had the mysterious ability to always found the right words to cheer him up. He liked that about her. Of all the butlers his father ever assigned to watch and protect him, she was definitely the most outgoing and compassionate one. Sayoko was one of the few, who could find him, whenever he was hiding after some consecutive training sessions with Illumi or after another unbearable argument with his mother, There wasn't a time when she wasn't able to comfort him and soften the mood. Not once was he left sulking or uncomfortable after returning from missions. He could tell, that she cares about him. More than his mother, if he has anything to add about that. And this was also the reason for frequent scoldings she was getting from Kikyou. He knew, that his mother takes it as a personal offense and acting on jealousy, try to beat up the way to his heart by punishing her alleged competitor. Still, she helps him nonetheless. Even now, it is surprisingly easy for Killua to relax, knowing that she is here, rooting for him. He wouldn't be honest with himself, if he didn't appreciate Gotoh's effort, too. Despite seeming rather cold, he really tries to aid him to the best of his abilities. They were one of the best butlers Zoldyck's family had to offer and Killua didn't intend to deny that claim.

“Everyone, take your seats! Bet’s time is over now and the fight is beginning!” Cocco announced again. “Participants, it’s time to enter the arena!” Right after she finished, raw screams of excitement passed through the stands. People were thirsty for a good fight and any delay would be as good as assisted suicide.

Killua looked at the hallway leading to the stadium, then stood up and began to walk in its direction with hands in his shorts "I guess it's my turn. When I'm back, you're buying me Choco-Robots", he added without turning. "Didn't you spend on them all the prize for archiving this floor, Little Mater?", asked Sayoko. "Actually, yeah, but I already ate them all", Killua added and disappeared in the tunnel.

"How big was that reward?" Gotoh curiosity took him over. "200 million jennies" Both servants stood there without a word. Then, after a few seconds, Gotoh boisterous laughter broke the silence: "Haha, I think, it was to be expected".

Somehow, Killua didn’t hear any screams or whistles until he came out of the tunnel At this point, he realized, that he instinctively crossed all way and entered the stadium, still pondering about the upcoming fight. The small talk with Sayoko calmed him down a little, but he couldn’t deny the disturbing sensation of insecurity. On the other side of the arena stood already a tall, bulky man. Unlike a traditional martial artist, he wore black, apparently comfortable sweatpants and a gray tank-top. He was probably around 6.8 feet, but musculature made him look like a dark-skinned Hulk on steroids. He looked at the boy, crossed arms and grinned impudently.

“Hey, brat! Parents didn’t teach you not to play adults? Give up or I won’t let you get away without beating!”, he yelled, audience’s shouts following right after.

Killua didn’t answer but turned his head to take a look at the place they will be fighting in. As expected, it not much has changed since his last fight a month ago. There was only a simple mat to mark the arena when they are allowed to move. Surprisingly, the administrators added ropes and attached them to four bars in such a way, that they decreased the total area designated for the battle.

“This is bad. I won’t be able to use utilize his momentum to kick him out of the ring. It will be also harder to dodge his attack, as he will probably try to corner me at the ropes.” He tried to find anything he can take advantage of, but the difference in both body size and physical capabilities was monstrous. Initially, the plan was to throw his opponent off balance, sneak behind him and knock him off before he can even react. Of course, in this scenario, he could try it as well, using ropes to maximize his flexibility advantage, but Bolckham will get suspicious the moment he gets close to them. “Wait, actually, I can do something about it…” He allowed himself a sneaky smile and finally looked around the audience.

Places like this had some amazing power to attract all kinds of creeps: retired warriors, blood-thirsty sadists, incorrigible visionaries, involuntary masochists, assassins on a holiday and many more. Most spectators were looking at him with a mixture of disdain and fear. At some point, it spread that he is a Zoldyck. When he first entered Heavens Arena people usually reacted enthusiastically at his performance. He became some kind of local pet, everyone was trying to touch his hair and dishevel his hair. He hated it. He hated when anyone touched them. So much, that he preferred severe punishments his mother gave him every time he slapped away her hand. More than additional training session with Illumi, whenever he didn’t allow his brother to tie or cut them, that they would not “bother” him during training. So much, that he would rather be known and despised as a Zoldyck. And maybe, after some really annoying women tried to pet him as if he was the fluffiest cuddly bag in the entire world, he had accidentally slipped a word or two… But Dear God, let Gotoh not find out about it or his father will be forced to find a new heir.

What shocked him a little, was that most of the adults took his children for the spectacle. Okay, he was accustomed to the sight of blood and general violence. But he was trained to become a professional assassin! He was younger than four when he killed for the first time! Are these people stupid or something? Why did they take kids to see a potential bloodbath?! ”Aghh, don’t think about it, concentrate. Just win the fight and go home.”

Suddenly, the public’s uproar was interrupted by horrible squeak, coming from the commentary studio. It continued for a few seconds, then stilled, followed by Cocco’s exciting announcement:

“It’s time to start the show! Killua, Bolckham, enter the ring!”, she cheered. Both of them did as they were told. At the same moment, referees showed up. One of them jumped over the ropes and get on the ring.

“The rules are simple. You are not allowed to leave the ring - whoever loses contact with the mat or ropes is disqualified. If you lose consciousness - you’re out. If you get hit and fall you have 10 seconds to stand up or you will be counted out. Understood” They both nodded. “ Great. Take your places.” As both participants moved to opposite sides of the ring, the referee left the mat, turn on his portable microphone, stood on the other side of the ring, right at the middle, and exclaimed:

“Ladies and gentleman, it’s finally time! Are you ready? Are our fighters ready? Then the fight has officially begun!”

Killua instantly tensed, staring intensively at his opponent, who seemed pretty relaxed. He stood there, watching the older guy and searching for feasible openings, ready to respond to any upcoming attack. Bolckham then leaned back against the edge of the ring and yelled “Hey, kid! Last chance. Give it up or I won’t hold myself back anymore”. However, the boy just strengthened his guard and snorted annoyed: “If you wanna win, come here and take it, old fart!” The old fart stood straight and called back: “As you wish, you little shit!” and rushed at him.

“Oh, that was pretty easy,” Killua thought and right after was forced to dodge the first hit. He stepped aside, trying to catch his opponent and by diverting his momentum send him on the ropes, but Bolckham was fast enough to jump away and continue with another blow. It wasn’t long before Killua found himself in a very unfavorable position - occupied with avoiding any hits from his competitor, he was unconsciously heading to the corner of the ring. Keeping distance in anticipation for any possibility to take advantage of the older’s mistake was taxing enough, he had little faith in his ability to fight back while being cornered. He had to come up with something or it might not ends well. He intended to win the fight relying on his speed and agility, but the difference was too slight to make an impact. Facing Bolckham head-on is off the table, he would just get razed to the ground. He didn’t have more time to analyze the situation, because his opponent resumed the attack: he took a step forward, arms on guard and swung his left hand only in order to abruptly cease the movement and follow with high kick from another side, while Killua was still in the air after jumping away from the former hit trajectory. He was hin in the right shoulder, impact force sending him over the other side of the battlefield and stopping only one the opposite ropes. His shoulder was hurting like hell and when he tried to stand up he couldn’t quite keep balance and nearly fell on the floor again.

“What’s now, kiddo?” Bolckham didn’t bother to hide the amusement in his voice “You need to learn where is your place” added apparently satisfied.

Killua just grits his teeth and squinted. The old guy seemed to like the one to talk a lot. Maybe if he could drag it long enough to regain control of his body… But it probably wasn’t his lucky day.

“Still playing tough, huh? Let’s check how long can you keep going” the other sneered and attacked again. By a miracle, Killua moved left and redirected his right hand, avoiding getting hit again, but wasn’t able to follow with counterattack due to his hurting shoulder. “Shit, it’s probably broken. How the hell did I get fooled?!” He couldn't move it at this point, left alone use in the actual fight. He did know that his opponent is strong, but he didn’t realize up to this point, that he’s the moving fight-machine! From the beginning of the battle, there was no opening he could use at all! “Great, of all the people in this Tower I must be against someone, who actually know how to fight” commented pissed. He had no more time to feel sorry for himself because Bolckham didn’t intend to give him more time for recovery.

The onslaught seemed to have no end. Killua tried to minimize any further injuries, but it did not take long before he took another hit. Unfortunately, this time Blockham punched him in the right arm. If Killua had any hopes, that he will be able to use his right arm in this duel, he can forget about them now. His momentum allowed him to land safely on the floor, but his whole right limb has gone limp and at this point was only a hindrance. The pain didn’t allow him to fully concentrate on his opponent, who was practically unscratched and wasn’t showing any intention of letting him go. Not that he could, anyway.

The boy recoiled, not without a grimace and tried to adjust his position. There is no way he can keep up anymore if he continues to rely on defense. His body is already sore and this annoying feeling of lethargy is already getting to him. Not letting Bolckham any more time to take the initiative, Killua lunged at him, attempting to strike the other male in the jaw. His effort was easily blocked, but he followed with a right-leg sweet. That was unexpected enough to throw the other off balance, even though he proceeded to evade. Using his the moment of surprise, the boy bounced off on his palm and swung his other leg, landing a clean hit on the other’s temple. The impact force sent Beckham rolling over on the floor, stopping near another side of the small arena.

“Ough, that little bastard got me. He isn’t that bad for such a young age” the martial-artist groaned getting up from the mat. He half-expected another hit as soon as he gets up, but the only thing he spotted was his silver-haired opponent slowly moving up from the ground. “Huh, I see. His arm and shoulder must be more injured than I thought. In any other scenario, he wouldn’t even feel a fall like this. It’s not only that his movements are impaired. He has problems event with getting up after such a short blows exchange. He’s not gonna last longer than five minutes”. He didn’t bother hiding satisfaction. “Everything is going as planned. It’s time to end it now.”

“You see? No way in hell I would ever lose to such a brat!” yelled full of contentment. Killua was putting all his strength to get up again. The whole right side of his body was hurting a lot, the last impact didn’t make it easier. He stood on the other side of the ring, staring at his opponent, trying to regain composure and stop shaking. “Let’s just end it, kid. What do you think?” the adventurer called with a cocky smile on his face. “I give it to you, you’re pretty stubborn. Or stupid, one could say. So I decided to treat you mildly… I will knock you off without breaking any more bones, what do you say?” he smiled and moved forward.

Killua didn’t have much time to react and jumped away, avoiding the first hit, but the following kick hit him in the stomach, sending him on the ground. He was just on his knees when the next strike connected with his check and then came another, sending another wave of pain through his right side. Never in his life was he so grateful for his family’s pain endurance training. If it wasn’t for it, he would be long ago sent unconscious, leaving alone any prospect of actually getting up again and fighting back. In a fair fight, he wouldn’t stand a chance. He was just a kid, he knew it! A six years old kid against a master of some strange martial arts, which he didn’t even use throughout the whole fight! There were no chances that he will outmatch someone with such abilities!

“Hey, are you still alive? Can’t you just give up? I don’t really like to bully kids (this much).” Bolckham tried again, but when the only response he got was Killua standing up again he just whined in annoyance and rushed forward. Reaching the boy wasn’t a problem anymore. After his desperate attempt to evade the upcoming series of punches he got a hard blow in the cheek, followed by one in the chin and a knee on the stomach. Killua fell on the ground breathless, grabbing his abdomen and writhing in pain. However, he was still trying to get hold of himself. The other male watched unaffected as he gets up and trembling tries to raise his guard once again, but once he finally retrieved stability, convulsion shook his whole body. The boy managed to lean out of the ring and resting his upper-body on ropes he threw up.

“Yo, Mr. Referee, isn’t it enough? This kid is barely standing.” Bolckham spoke in a rather irritated manner, searching for a thin man in recognizable Heavens Arena outfit, who was nervously watching the whole fight from the other side of the railing. “Do I have to gut him for you to end the fight?”

“Sorry, Mister. According to the rules, the fight continues, until one of the fighters lose consciousness or gives up. I’m afraid I can’t help it” replied the man without taking his eyes off the youngster, which eventually stopped puking and was already glaring at his opponent, lining against the fence.

After hearing the reply, the former adventurer turned around and took notice of Killua. The boy regained enough composure to be able to pay him attention again: “I kinda feel sorry for ya, kiddo. Even if I tried to go easy on you and knock you out, you're still holding your shit together. But you heard him, play-time is over.”

The cold shiver passed through his spine. The air around Bolckham has become much thicker and it was noticed, that it was harder to breathe. Killua had no idea what is going on, but it seemed as if some strange form of energy was gathering around the other man’s body. “Damn, it’s bad! What in the hell is this pressure?!” He leaned forward, trying to stabilize his position. “It’s probably my last chance, I need to take him down in one go or he will crush me!” The boy supported his stance by briefly leaning on his knees, then put his hands aside and half-bent waited for the upcoming charge.

A few seconds later Bolckham moved forward, starting with his typical punches. Killua successfully avoided getting hit and when his opponent tried to follow with a high kick, he spotted a hidden opening and took the risk. When the martial-artist was about to hit him in the jaw, he managed to step aside, redirecting the hit with his left arm and threw him off balance sliding his leg back to front and sending the other found himself in the air. Before he fell, Killua pushed him with his uninjured arm so he turned mid-air and felt on front. Before he got up, the albino was already sat on him and wrapping his legs around the older male’s torso pulled out his claws.

First, what Bolckham felt after hitting the ground was someone’s legs gripping his waist and following pain of thorn skin and muscles. The boy’s fingertips were stuck all the way in his back and he was no way to get rid of them. “GET OFF YOU LITTLE WHORE!” the man screamed, trying to Killua off his shoulders. “FUCK!!! That bastard! Even if I try to dump him by force, he dug too fucking close my spinal cord! SHIT!” He tried to struggle, but with every move, the would-be assassin was ripping off more and more of his flesh. The pain intensified with every passing moment and it wasn't long before he didn’t want to bear with it anymore.  
“Fuck it! I give up! I give up! Get down, you little brat!” As soon as he surrendered, the referee jumped over the ropes and yelled: “End! Stop fighting! The fight is over!” As it turned out, it was enough for Killua to hide his fingernails and jest after collapsed on the ground unconscious.

“YOU BASTARD! How did you dare…” the voyager roared, turning around and raising his hand, but before he was able to hit the unconscious boy, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Bolckham, please, calm down” referee broke in. “I understand your frustration, but if you cause any hurt to another participant off battle, you will be disqualified and expelled from the Heavens Arena.”

“What the hell?” The male had no intention of hiding his annoyance. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Mr. Bolckham, I ask your forgiveness, but according to the rules, no unapproved violence is allowed. You will need to wait till next fight.”

“This brat just dug his nails into my back! How is it allowed?”

“I ensure you, that we are currently investigating this problem. If we found that it was against the statute, your opponent will be disqualified and we will announce you as the winner of the fight. For now, please, go to the infirmary and get your wounds checked. We will deliver the results to your apartment as soon as possible.” the referee concluded.

Apparently, his interlocutor wasn’t satisfied with this outcome at all. He hissed resentfully, looked one last time at the unconscious boy who defeated him and reluctantly got off the mat, heading towards the anteroom.

When he was passing near the stands, Cocco was halfway announcing: “Ladies and gentlemen, this incredible fight is already over! The winner is… Killua Zoldyck!” Cheers erupted over the whole stadium as the spectators cried with joy after seeing the final encounter. Someone was scolding the boy's name, someone else approved how brave he was, another wondered what great things will he do in the future. The defeated realized, that several people ran on the stage and started checking the youngster’s wounds. No one was really paying him more attention. The fact seemed to him very appealing. He quickened his pace and soon disappeared in the passage, smirking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! It's a while... ^^" This academic year was pretty taxing for me, so I couldn't find any time to write next chapters at all. I hope it will change soon enough. I'm currently experimenting with my writing style, so sorry for any future inconsistency. I'll do my best to make it enjoyable :D
> 
> PS: Huge "thank you!" for every kudos, it motivates me greatly to write more. I really appreciate it guys ;)


	3. Commitment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying to make an upload schedule, but I'm really bad with deadlines...:/

“What we know, for now, is that his injuries aren't life-threatening. The kid got beaten pretty badly. The right arm is broken - a multi-fragmental fracture with displacement. Bonsetting was necessary, but it seems that everything went well and it probably didn’t sustain any permanent damage. At this moment, it’s likely, that he wouldn’t be able to fully use his that limb, but it will get better with time. Taking into consideration his surprising self-regeneration, we expect it to heal within 6 weeks. His right side is beaten. There are also three upper ribs cracked, the left ankle is dislocated and the right is twisted. These are the most considerable injuries. No major internal damage was detected. Furthermore, he got a concussion but is currently unconscious, so it should be long gone when he wakes up. There were are also a few superficial hematomas (we already took care of them), multiple bruises and scratches over the whole body” concluded a young doctor in a rather exasperated manner. He was medium-high and medium-build. Looking on formal-clothed butlers with his tired, azure eyes, he could not restrain himself from feeling pity for the child lying unconscious on the large, plain bet. It wasn’t unusual, that once in a while overambitious parents sent their children here, to make them fight with some random brawlers as a part of their training.

To be honest seeing the youngster’s fight (curse the one, who find out that “doctor’s duty”) he felt some kind of admiration for him - it’s extremely rare for a kid his age to be able to take part in such a high-level fight. Many things he saw during his three-years-long practice and kids getting permanently weren’t something special. Anyway, there was nothing he could do about that. He was just a doctor, an internist, which preferred treating injuries over causing them. As every other Heaven's Arena employee he wasn’t wearing a particular white apron but was clothed with a stylish purple t-shirt and loose pants of the same shade. Fortunately for him, that's ought to be said, it emphasized his fair complexion, giving him a vibe of authority and knowledge - attributes giving his occupation a vibe of seriousness, authority, and knowledge, exceptionally appreciated by people of his profession. On the left side of his chest, he had a pocket to which identification was pinned - a consequence of top-down regulation, that every worker should be easily recognizable by any patient and visitor.

“Thank you for your service, dr Shawn. We will take care of him from now on.” Somehow, Gotoh was always able to keep his calm. A part of it was a consequence of his rigorous training in the Zoldyck mansion, that for sure. In his job, there was no room for needles gestures, excessive emotions, disobedience or, what could be even worse, any noticeable sign of affection. Yeah, it’s how he is now, but deep down he can’t really remember if it has ever been different. Even in his youth, his face was generally emotionless, expressions blank, motions calculated. So, when he was forced to take that murderous practice there was only a little resentment over his misfortune, but much more enthusiasm. Just think about it: no more contemptuous glances, unfriendly rumors, mean comments. For the not-so-old-yet butler, this service was not only a duty but redemption as well. Indulged himself in the will of his masters and gained apparent substitute of freedom. Being himself and not being on his own. Not much, but for some reason still enough.

And yet, be it by chance, an unexpected twist of fate or a silly joke made by some dull god, there he was - in a common, simple room, with a large bed by the south wall, some lockers, three definitely not decorative chairs, wooden table, which was a part of an antique tableware and a wide carpet, covering nearly the whole room’s floor. Someone would think, that Heaven’s Arena floor 200 is more extravagant and comfy… Who knows? Maybe Zoldyck’s just hired a better interior designer? Killua, lying supine on that double-sized bed, still didn’t wake up since yesterday's fight. It was nearly 3 p.m., which meant, that he remained unconscious for roughly 24 hours. Considering that and the full extension of the boy’s injuries, Gotoh couldn’t help but felt worried.

Over past years one of his major inner struggles was the growing affection for the future heir. To his misery, it wasn’t a feeling of obedience and devotion, but sympathy and comprehension. As an involuntary observer of his training’s progress, Gotoh was positive, that it’s more demanding than Killua should be able to bear. “Unbelievable, even after taking such hits, he was still able to reverse battle’s course. It’s a battle performance of the highest level, no child should be able to do it, especially against so well-skilled opponent. With those abilities, he would be a favorite in most scenarios. Unfortunate, meeting such an individual in a place like this. I wonder…”

“Indeed, we highly appreciate your help, doctor” Sayoko’s disturbed voice interrupted his track of thoughts. Despite her years-long experience, she grew attached to the Young Master, even more so than him. Partly due to insatiate maternal instinct, Gotoh suspected. When he was accepted, years and years ago, she was already a top butter, one of the former heir most loyal servant. The history of her origin was still a mystery, even her younger sister, Tsubone did not know much. They were raised together, naturally, as fully-flagged blood-related sisters. But it wasn’t long until Sayoko was taken by her father, which later disappeared in unknown circumstances. These times were restless and there were only a few, who expressed surprise openly. Specific times, when war was in the air and shelters worth more than treasures of several generations. After her disappearance was no despair or wailing and only trained eye could spot a shallow shade of grief on her mother’s face, usually unshakable, like a carefully chiseled mask.

Knowing it, that was to be expected, that her return, several years later. safe and sound was the more bewildering not only for her relatives, younger sister included but for anyone who remembered and recalled young Sayoko. Still, she never spoke about those times, responding with general facts and inconsistent statements. The message was clear - she didn’t want to recount that time of her life. As it turned out, no one really tried to urge her, so without unwanted inquisitive questions and with only some curious glances, she adapted and started to live with her temporarily abandoned family once again. According to what Tsubone told him, this time certainly wasn’t harmless for her psychical health. For three years, she got wake up by her older sister’s screams and whines. After a few futile attempts to break her out of sleep Sayoko rarely regained consciousness, but her outburst weakened and ceased with time, only to come back another day.

In the morning, when the first rays of daylight woke after another sleepless night, her sister was already absent. She appeared back about midday, wearing that casual, mildly cheerful expression and dismissed signs of concern, never crossing the line of iterative nightmares. Was she dreaming about the horror of was? Helpless victims? Deceased companions? Was it a recollection of incomprehensible, numbing fear taking over a defenseless young lady? Or were there even darker secrets, that bestowed her with unwanted gift of chronic insomnia and melancholy? Whatever it was, she seemed very fond of secrecy and solicitously guarded this part of her life.

At some point, bad dreams calmed down and there were no more midnight’s cries, but Sayoko still used to leave at dawn. It was probably a habit, that helped her sort out thoughts. The fresh morning air of an uninhibited forest could do the trick. Or maybe she grew a little more self-conscious and managed to stifle any hint of anxiety, rooted deep in her memory. Anyway, any trace of her ailment was soon gone, and her family became accustomed to her daily disappearances, so it wasn’t that long before everyone finally stopped bothering her about these events.

Gotoh was never able to pry much more details from any of the sisters, but one thing he was sure about. The chronic pressure she was put under led her to never establish a more intimate relationship with another person. It was the only supposition, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she never really cared about it and didn’t pursuit relation with any particular person. Truth to be told, it wasn’t that unlikely, too. Spending her youthful years with her mother and sister, then being taken by Zoldyck, going through rigorous training with the intentions to make her an elite butler, completing various missions and errand on their behalf - it all left her little time to develop a bond, that wasn’t only a strong feeling of camaraderie, and being kinda withdrawn and asocial person didn’t help at all.

It should not come as a surprise, that when she was eventually burdened with the responsibility of her master’s child’s safety, she quickly established a sort of affection for them. It wasn’t particularly strong towards the two eldest kids, but with Killua it was different. After he was presented to her it seemed to her, that they're connected in a very strange way. This feeling was hard to describe. Making it only a strong inkling of commitment and duty would be too simplistic. Sayoko could swear, it was something more - as if someone was telling her, that this kid will need her as more than an ordinary, old servant.

After she left the main hall, where Kikyou and Silva were taking care of little Killua, she immediately left the mansion and informing the present servants, that she’s taking his shift, Sayoko let herself wander over the entire estate deep in thoughts, not caring about passing minutes. It’s not sure when she came back to the house. It’s possible, than even she if asked, wouldn't properly answer that question. However, the result of her thoughtful protection will make a tremendous impact on newborn-heir future life.

“When can we expect him to wake up?” she followed with another question. The worry was in her voice was clear, yet no body’s movement eluded the etiquette. Old routine can’t be easily changed or replaced, especially, when nurtured through a long time. Some things are out of control, subconscious. Just like that, she was looking at the indistinctive figure of the medical, tracking his delicate features and not-so-healthy-looking face. Yeah, he isn’t going out much. And bangs under his eyes don’t look like a one-time occurrence, too. However, the young doctor didn’t seem like a one to lose the fight with fatigue. At least for now. He must have it pretty rough here, too.

Dr Shawn took a glance at results of the boy’s physical examination and some of the laboratory tests from the past two days, flipping through the cards he was holding. When trying to search up the binder, some of the documents slipped and felt on the floor. The medic sighed in annoyance, crouched and started collecting the notes, putting them in again, while trying to order them a little.

“Echh, I’m sorry, it’s probably overwork. I’ll show you his results in a second” he added, hurriedly grabbing another dropped card, overly conscious of the two pair of eyes, following his every move. “It’s two days since he fainted from exhaustion after the fight. As I mentioned before, even though his injuries are quite serious, his flexibility and muscle control shouldn’t be impaired. Given some rest time, the patient should be able to fully recover… But any further damage during the convalescence period, especially to his right arm, could lead to permanent paresis or even total disability of the upper limb. You should for any cost prevent him from overloading and overexercising it in the next 6 weeks at least.”

“Understood” Gotoh interrupted in a monotone “and if it comes to waking up..?” The doctor only shook his head “Oh right, I skipped it again. We suppose him to wake up sometime from today’s evening to tomorrow's morning. The whole time he was in a stable state, so we don’t expect any major complication. If anything I will contact you immediately.” After that, his gaze met briefly with Sayoko’s. Fail trail of agreement between two people sharing, in that exact moment, convergent hopes, similar motives, but with completely different perspectives. “I’ll let you stay here for a while, gonna complete documentation. The boy…” he hesitated and looked at the medical history “Killua, is still connected to the apparatus, so I’ll be alerted if anything requiring my intervention happens.”

Then he finally lifted the partly filled binder, stood up and took a few steps to the door, intending on leaving the room. When he grabbed the doorknob with his right hand, half-opening the door, left arm holding on the thick folder, he took another turn, met four attentive eyes and added: “Don’t tire him too much. I’ll check on him in 30 minutes. If he wakes up, please, notify me immediately. See you later” and without further delay came out, the door closing behind him.

It took a couple of seconds for the two butlers to take their eyes off the spot where the doctor stood mere seconds ago. They weren’t exactly pleased by what he told them, but there was no helping it. It was Sayoko, who decided to approach the wooden table near the sidewall and moved two chairs to the front of Killua’s bed, one vis-a-vis the other. She settled herself on the right one and offered Gotoh the second one.

“Guess there is still some time and a few matters to discuss, Gotoh. Would you like to take a sit?” she asked, pointing with her left hand on the place next to her. She sounded amicable, friendly even. Still, there was that firm tone in her voice, that commanded obedience. It was only a manner of speech, now. As the person in command, she was the one to make decisions and take responsibility. Even though they were on equal terms while in the mansion, the mission was given a high priority and as that a commander was needed. According to Zoldycks’s assumptions, establishing leadership increases the organization and efficiency of a group. There must be always one, and only one person capable of disposing of the others - a specific kind of prevention, so no contradictory plans would be implemented into action.

“Gladly,” Gotoh said. “I was going to talk with you anyway, Sayoko.” Then, taking a few quiet steps, he approached the double-sized bed and sat down, facing it. Unexpectedly, when he was about to get to the point, something distracted him. He stared momentarily at his Little Master, who was sleeping peacefully, his head resting heavily on a white cushion. Yet, between the recently changed bedding and the seemingly comfortable pillow, a delicate chain was hung on his neck, ending with a small, plain locked. “Oh, Interesting.” The butler leaned over the bed and took the medallion in his hands, rising him up to get a better look. “That’s a novelty, I haven’t seen him wearing it before. Is it from you?” he asked with apparent curiosity.

“Of course not” a reply came immediately. “We are no supposed to have any signs of affection, right?” This time the was also amusement in her voice. “But… some time ago I saw him hiding it from his parents. When the boy was younger, he used to wear it while playing alone outside the mansion. He was quite determined to keep it a secret. ” “And you just thought, that it’s a great idea to put it in the spotlight with me as an audience?” Gotoh interjected in monotone. “Oh, come on! You? A snitch? And who helped me to smuggle chocolates to his room? Who explained to Mr. Zoldyck why the big dog Mike was chasing butlers with some strange boxes in their hands and why the whole there was a fucking truck traces going through Mrs. Zoldyck flowerbed? “she burst out laughing “That was quite unfortunate…” Gotoh groaned, embarrassed. “Sure, there is nothing suspicious when your second in command butler tells you about several meters high dog roll-skating through daffodils “She added with a perfect poker face, only to break out laughing again. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure it will stay between us. I just had a hunch, that it will be a good idea” the woman concluded, the cheerfulness from a moment ago seemed to dissipate as she accented the last sentence in a more thoughtful manner.

Gotoh caught it immediately. “Sayoko, anything wrong?” His voice came out dry, yet not soulless. He couldn’t keep the worry for himself. They both didn’t expect the consequents to be this severe and they all were paying for it now. There were close, despite the strict rules binding them under Zoldyck’s name, and as such there was no need to hide their emotions from each other. The first time they realized it was when Killua was four. After one of his missions, he took a puppy home. It was a light brown stray with short fur and proportionally long tail. It was clear from the first sight, that it wasn’t purebred. Killua refused to admit how he get in touch with it and Illumi, before Silva had a chance to ask him about the unexpected incident, managed to get out of the room, leaving his younger brother exposed to Kikyou’s inquisitive questions. Why didn’t he condemn the younger boy and allowed him to take that helpless animal to the monster’s lair was also an enigma. It was impossible for the silver-haired boy to smuggle it through Illumis watchful eye, but here we are. Finally, after long and intensive pleas, cries, promises and blackmail’s attempts (from both of them), their mother finally agreed to keep, making Killua’s responsible for taking care of him. Not that he minded it.

At the time the two brothers came back, what happened to be of great importance, both of the butlers were present at the mention. Telling they took a part in it would be a lie. To tell the truth, both of them were hiding in the adjacent rooms, not aware of each other presence. Only a few days late their mutual curiosity came out when on common shift they ended up talking about their master’s new pet. It was something new, a difference in their daily routine. Did anyone ever heard about a Zoldyck playing and rolling on the ground with an ordinary dog? Was there any mistake? How the hell did that boy convince that rigorous woman, his mother, into letting this dog stay? Seeing a Zoldyck’s child having fun, running, smiling, throwing a ball, laughing his lungs out, being affectionate and happy - wasn’t it once in a lifetime occurrence? What was even stranger, it was the first time they started to feel a little affection towards the boy. Not loyalty or obedience but the simplest form of sympathy and kindness. And kill me, but should a trained servant be able to feel in such a strange way? From that alone they knew: this boy wasn’t like his family members. Like he doesn’t necessarily fit here. Thus it will be so much harder for him. And maybe, just maybe, they should give him a little bit more attention… To make sure he’s safe, of course.  
As it turned out, their intuition was not as deceitful as the average presidential election debate. Less than two weeks after that the puppy got missing. No one really dared to say it aloud but on that morning Killua appeared in the huge, stone living room completely embittered. He sat at the chair opposite to his eldest brother, waited out the breakfast digging his fork in the plate thoughtlessly and got up from the table, hurrying to his room as soon as Kikyou gave him permission. Naturally, the household was quiet as if the dog has never been there. The bowl in Killua’s room disappeared, a makeshift shaft was gone too and there was no sight of dog toys, the boy bribed his other brother, Milluki, to buy for him. That unexpected emptiness seemed to once again envelope the boy, encompassing his broken form with grievousness which, it would seem, dissipated days ago. If she didn’t know him better, she would throw it on the canvas of overly difficult mission from the day before. But even if they weren’t particularly close, that blank look and mind absence, in addition to her experience gained with another Zoldyck’s children, wasn’t enough to delude herself into blissful obliviousness.

Wretched warmth and cordiality, accursed senility. Why can’t he be left alone? Why can’t she just give him time to deal with whatever happened? It was obvious, for whoever was watching, that it wasn’t an unfortunate accident or consequence of human’s negligence. And like that, cursing her softness, soon after the breakfast finished, Sayoko left the main room and pretending she’s going to deal with some unspecified responsibilities, the woman got on the second floor and for business purpose only, checking if no one is in her sight range, entered Kailua's room.

If she only knew how long that day would seem… Sometimes unawareness is a blessing. I used to think, that the great, unrestrained human’s urge owned a lot to ignorance. Obstacles and fails deter from taking the hard road, making it even harder and making it even less desirable. Even if humans are afraid of the unknown, the consequences seem too distant and hypothetical to feel realistic. A route makes an impression. And relying solely on that impression choices are made. One seems more save, other more stable, yet another extremely profitable. However, most often paths are concealed and we realize their existence only when we’re standing on a crossroad - when a choice is necessary and we, through his absoluteness, are forced to choose. Here freedom ends and existentialism begins. In the face of moral choice, the human’s drama is resolved as we decide where to go, making a choice, moral in its nature, and its result will be known at the way's very end.

When she entered the room, Sayoko’s choice became final. Not to ruin the story, but at the same time giving due diligence and to emphasize the importance of her choice, I will only say, that her support was for Killua was immeasurable to him. She soundlessly closed the door, making sure not to alert anybody and found the boy trembling on his bet. It took a lot of effort to persuade him into telling her what actually happened and even more to cheer him up just a bit, giving him as much time as he needed. It doesn’t mean that it went smoother later on. However, after that comforting session, being spotted in Killua’s room, an argument with Kikyou, some more or less pleasant days of isolation and some mediocre harsh punishment she still thought it was worth it. It was also the beginning of the silent agreement between the old butler and the silver-haired youth… But I get a hunch, that he will tell us about that himself someday.

“I’m fine” Sayoko answered, worried, but apparently calmed down by the doctor’s opinion. “Did they found him?” she asked, entangling his fingers on her lap, still sitting on the small chair, staring intensively at the sleeping male, expecting him to wake at any moment. From the very morning of the battle’s day, she seemed exceptionally tense and focused. Truth be told, Gotoh seemed disturbed by it but decided to keep it for himself. Well, as it turned out, he will find out about it anyway.

“That self-proclaimed adventurer guy? He was not seen since the fight. It’s as if he departed right after it. I spoke with locals, barmen and other attendants and there was nothing special about him. He signed up in the arena three months ago, put an average fight with other peers and climbed up to the 190th floor in one go. No one has seen him here before and our information couldn’t provide any data about him, like if he appeared from nowhere and disappeared.” I was obvious that the butler felt uneasy. He’s usual gestures had signs of that alarming stiffness. “To be frank, it’s strange. Zoldyck’s investigation system is usually sufficient to examine one’s records and no signs of his presence inside Heaven's Arena is disquieting. He didn’t write himself out or left the tower - I managed to check the entrance camera’s records, yet his room was empty the whole time. I’m gonna check the security service room as soon as the main doorman is back.” When he finished, their room went silent, both servants focused on their own thoughts.

Suddenly, Sayoko clenched fists, stood up and not looking at her companion approached the window and stood there for a moment, tracking way’s of some strange clouds, before saying: “It’s our fault. We failed” then turned around “Do you understand? We fucking FAILED!” she cried in anger and came again to the bed headboard. “ This kid should have never fight with that guy! This whole fight was one great mistake! The difference in strength was huge! This didn’t even look like a battle, more like an execution! Who in his right mind would send a child there?!” she followed.

“Please, calm down.” Gotoh argued, getting on his feet, hesitantly “We didn’t make any mistake. Everything went as planned, excluding some excessive injuries. Young Master won the fight and we’re coming bac-” “SO WHAT?! Is it that east for you? Didn’t you hear? If he gets another arm injuries the damage may be permanent. It’s a miracle he didn’t get any internal injuries… What more, we didn’t even check his records! And who the hell allowed a child to fight a professional?!”

“A professional? Interesting… I did not find anything about that. “ It was harsh. The younger butler adjusting his glasses and inquired further. “How do you know?” Sayoko just looked away, slowly sat at the chair and answered awkwardly “It’s only a guess. He didn’t seem like an ordinary person…” “But there was also no indication, that we should be wary of him. Even with the help of whole Zoldyck’s intelligence network, there is no way to check on every common attendant. I know how you feel, but it seems that you have forgotten, that we mustn’t be sentimental.” Then turned and started to towards the door. When he opped it, that his left hand was holding the outer side of the doorknob, he added more gently “Try to rest. There wasn’t anything we could do, so there is no reason for you to blame yourself. I’ll check on the doorman and come back as soon as possible” and not waiting for any answer left the room.

The sound of the closing door just a small overture to the distinctive concerto of Killuas breathing that followed soon after. It’s funny how little things take meaning when there is nothing else to pay attention to. Sayoko did not hurry to move, aware, that there is nothing more to do before Gotoh comes back. But it wasn’t a peaceful moment. Not a one to repose and anticipate. Because there was a nagging thought, that forbade her to fell relieved. Sitting near the chair, watching the boy she wasn’t permitted to feel any form of kindness, let alone sympathy, that one thing was like a sting - unpleasant, alarming and whatever she did, it was no way to get rid of it. So instead of going into that uneven fight, she overcame the tiredness of the last nights and every bit of rationality she still had into a desperate attempt to answer that simple question: “Why did you come back, Bolckham?”


End file.
